One-Hundred Thousand Years Ago
by Silverwinds1313
Summary: After finding strange readings on an icy planet, SG-1 is sent to explore and find out what's causing this "echo" of energy. While exploring the desolate world they are caught up in a situation that will ultimately lead to their demise. The only way for them to have more than a snowball's chance in hell to live is if someone spots them stranded on the blizzarding planet...
1. The Dome

_ Author's Note: This story was inspired by theholycheese's story "_A Dead God and the Live Team." _What I've written is a rework of his story with a bit of my own spin on it. I would recommend reading hers first, but if you do, don't read farther than the first chapter. My hope is to follow her chapters as closely as possible until near the end of the middle where I will be having a little fun with this story. _

_ Whether you come here from the Danny Phantom fandom, the Stargate fandom, from both or even neither, my goal is that you should be able to understand this all completely. Some information may be missing in this chapter, but it will be sure to come in later chapters, so just hold on!_

_ My biggest hope of all is that I can actually muster up the inspiration to complete one full fan fiction - this one. Wish me luck!_

_ Enjoy._

* * *

For SG-1 it was just another normal day. I'm sure you know the kind; exploring a barren, sub-zero temperature terrain on an alien world. Which was by no means a metaphor.

Yes, a rather normal, boring, freeze-your-ass-off day. And one Jack O'Neill was pretty annoyed at that. There was a game on tonight at 7 – Cubs versus the Red Sox, an upset game for sure! – and he was going to miss it because he had to stick around and check out this lifeless ice-ball of a planet. Honestly, he didn't even know why they were out there. He probably should have paid more attention during them meeting in the briefing room, but once Carter got on about abnormalities on the readings from the probe and energy anomalies, he kind of tuned it out… He'd heard just enough to realize there was next to no chance of seeing any kind of life _at all_ on the planet, and after that, well… Well, he did manage to get his paper football into Daniel's glass of water without getting caught by General Hammond.

The colonel let out a self-depreciating breath. Some days he wished he was cut out to be more of an office guy, a pencil pusher, 'cause at least then he'd have normal work hours and could catch the games like every other Joe Shmoe and Johnny Noname out there. But on the other hand, Joe Shmoe didn't get bragging rights to saving the world twice a month from those snake-like mind-controlling parasitic aliens that called themselves Goa'uld.

Just thinking about the Goa'uld got Jack a bit fired up. The narcissistic body-snatching worms always seemed to be lurking at the edge of everything those at Cheyenne Mountain did like some sort of clichéd pre-confrontation day between a hero and villain. Except that they couldn't just duke out their epic final battle and get on with their lives – no, they were stuck in a stressful state of limbo. Well, really it was just stressful on the human's side. It was just luck and the Goa'uld's arrogance that kept Earth intact; the Goa'uld thought the Earthlings of little importance, knowing they had no means of space travel other than the Stargate and little to speak of in terms of powerful allies.

Jack almost scoffed at that - they had the Tok'ra on their side! Though teaming themselves with the Tok'ra had left a bitter taste in the colonel's mouth, he knew their alliance was for the best. At first (and still a bit now) he had thought the Tok'ra nothing more than glorified Goa'ulds, because, really, that's what they were. The Goa'uld and the Tok'ra were the same kind of alien, except that the Goa'uld were hell-bent on galactic domination while the Tok'ra just wanted to be freed from the Goa'uld's evil shadow.

Either way, Tok'ra or Goa'uld, they were still mind-controlling parasites. Jack had the unpleasant experience of hosting one and he never planned on letting that happen again! He supposed it could have been worse - he could have hosted a Goa'uld instead of a Tok'ra and ended up giving it all his information on the goings-on of Sheyenne Mountain, which would have had deadly consequences, but his experience did almost end up killing him. The stupid snake inside of him decided it needed to go and try to rescue it's buddy from a known Goa'uld warbase homeworld using Jack's body. Carter had tried to explain it to him as the Tok'ra having to impress itself to Jack's moral code meaning that it couldn't leave an ally behind, just as Jack would. But Jack refused to hear it - the idiotic creature almost got them both tortured to death!

With a huff he realized that that wasn't the first time he came close to death. Actually, he lost count after twenty-something. It was probably closer to 70 by now. Maybe more. He mentally shrugged; it didn't really matter considering it was going to happen again and again and again and… well, probably until it actually did end up killing him. You know… he wasn't really sure if he was even getting hazard pay for this. He should ask General Hammond about that.

He should take a vacation. Dodging energy beams and avoiding death traps is fun and all, but nothing is quite as good as casting his rod into the fish-less pond behind his cabin or grilling up a barbeque while sipping on an ice-cold Bud Lite. Right now, he should be out on lake McConohay with his fishing cap over his face, relaxing in his 10-year-old, leaky, rust-bucket of a boat catching nothing but the weeds that sit at the bottom of the water.

O'Neill looked around through his ice-caked snow goggles at the bleak, dead, futureless, desolate, coldcoldcold, _freezing_ wasteland in every endless direction finding nothing but snow. Snow, snow, snow, everywhere you turned. Looking up? Snow. Left? Ice. Right? Frozen water. Forward? Backward? Sideways? Upside down? Nothing but the white stuff. Don't get him wrong, he loves his job, but glancing listlessly at this frozen world, he was pretty damn sure it was time for a vacation. A warm one.

How long had they been on this planet anyway? It felt like hours.

"Carter!" the colonel called through the mic - the howling winds and snow flurries prevented conventional communication -, "How much longer is this gonna take? I'm getting snow where snow doesn't belong." What was she doing anyway? Gathering snow samples? Scientists did the most useless things sometimes.

"Not much longer, sir. It seems that the energy readings are gone. Either something is disrupting the signal to my equipment or whatever it was is gone now. Both explanations are highly improbable, though, because the amount of power it would take to create readings like that would almost definitely require a stationary source and to have a signal jammer to cover such an immense energy field would mean it's very advanced technology. And if that's the case, then it's useless trying to search much longer."

Though Jack couldn't see major Carter at the moment, he knew she had that gleam in her eye that meant she was either going to go into a rant or do a _ton_ of research when they got back. He sincerely hoped it was the latter.

"I dunno, Sam," a third voice broke in "Even if there was something jamming the signal, wouldn't it have to have been turned on by something? Some_one_?" Standing over Carter's shoulder to get a look at her collected data, Doctor Daniel Jackson provided his query. Though Daniel was no scientist, he worked best along side Sam because of their shared interest in alien knowledge. Jackson had lived for a year on the desert planet Abydos where he was widely accepted among the people just beyond that Stargate. While there, he gathered invaluable information on the location of other Stargates. Though that information was likely never to be retrieved by the people of Earth if not for a series of unfortunate events in which his wife was kidnapped by the Goa'uld. Daniel returned to Earth to work with SG-1, where he had begun, to search for his wife. Daniel's primary goal remained to rescue his wife until she died due to Teal'c defending himself from the Goa'uld controlling her. Yet the young archaeologist had become enthralled with the knowledge that SG-1 sought out during their journeys, so much so that he decided to remain with the team. Though Jackson's curiosity and desire for knowledge had nearly gotten him killed more than once, it had also saved the rest of SG-1 on many an occasion. Daniel's mental library of languages allows for basic communication with whatever locals they encounter - such is the case when you're fluent in 26 languages - and can lead to a friendly beginning or fix a misunderstanding.

Jackson wasn't actually part of the military like everyone else at Sheyenne Mountain - the USAF base wasn't top secret, but what went on there most certainly was. The Stargate Program was one of the most well-guarded secrets in the country - well it was up until that rat Maybourne went and spilled the beans to the Russians. The world couldn't know about the Stargate Program or what they do in Cheyenne Mountain because it would undoubtedly cause wide-spread panic. In fact, the program had almost been shut down once or twice already. They didn't need to add fuel to the fire. Only a select few non-military personnel knew of the existence of the Stargate and that was the way it needed to remain.

"Yes," the major replied, "but the question is, how did it know we were searching for it? The MALP didn't seem to trigger this response, so it must not have been the activation of the Stargate or motion caused by something coming through. Whatever caused it must know that we're here…"

Silently, a shadowy figure coalesced from the mists of the whipping ice, marching forward with purpose toward the three Earthlings grouped nearby. The being was entirely the opposite- that is to say, not from Earth. Standing at perhaps six feet tall, the now vaguely definable splotch loomed behind the two scientists like a sentinel, white shards winding themselves around it like gauze about a mummy.

Daniel, feeling a sudden change in the wind that was pressing his back, turned on instinct to see what had caused it. The doctor nearly jumped straight out of his skin when he whirled around to find that none other than Teal'c had snuck up behind him. Leave it to him to stay mute when approaching someone on an alien world.

"Teal'c!" the shorter man yelped, "you scared me."

"My apologies, Daniel Jackson." Teal'c replied sincerely and with a small tip of his torso in a bow.

Sam picked up here and filled their re-emerged friend in on the situation. "Have you heard of anything like this?"

With a frown of thought, the man answered, "Yes, this kind of technology is used often in Goa'uld fighter ships. It works much like your thermal sensors, but it is much too cold here for such equipment to function." His voice was as deep and calm as an ocean. Dealing in facts and with little time for mistakes, his words were always sure and strong.

With his first-hand experience in all things Goa'uld, Teal'c made for an invaluable source of information when it came to nearly any off-world mission. Having been once a part of that coven, Teal'c knew much about the technologies and, mainly, the offensive tactics of the humans' enemies. Although Teal'c was himself from the Goa'uld homeworld, he did not have access to the any of the information about how to construct the alien weaponry. He knew nothing of how to assemble, how to create, or even what sort of material went into such crafts; such information was forbidden, he'd informed the SGC.

"We were thinking it was probably best to head back. There's not much more we can do here." Carter continued.

Teal'c agreed with a nod of his head.

As if to reinforce this sentiment, a sudden screeching beep assaulted SG-1's ears, leaving them momentarily ringing.

"The hell was that?" O'Neill asked of no one in particular, sounding rather insulted.

"That's our queue to leave." Jackson lurched forward, trudging as quickly as was possible without breaking the top crust with his snowshoes, Sam not hesitating to follow behind.

"That was the blizzard alarm," she filled in.

Jack laughed in blatant disbelief. There was no way. "You're telling me that _this_ isn't a blizzard?"

Without having to think about it, she relayed information. "Not on this planet. The blizzards here are made of frozen nitrogen, getting down to negative 400 degrees Fahrenheit, not counting the windchill. If any organic life were to stand in the way of this storm the water inside the cells would instantly crystallize."

Jack let out a contemplative hum as he fell in step with the hustling duo, Teal'c behind him. "Sounds like it'd be pretty."

Sam glanced over her shoulder towards him, "If you call being a fleshy ice sculpture pretty, then yes."

The colonel pondered this a moment, "The chicken noodle soup around here must be pretty strong stuff to melt those kind of snowmen."

If anyone got the reference, no one said as much.

Thankfully, the Stargate wasn't that far off, about 300 hundred meters, though with visibility at zero they had to rely on the beacon that the MALP was emitting to find their way back. The MALP was the probe that was sent into the Stargate before any member of the SGC was allowed through. The Mobile Analytic Laboratory Probe, or MALP, was equipped with sensors that tested the atmospheric quality, temperature, geological activities, and had a camera among other things. The camera's main functions were to see if the coast was clear of hostiles and to check that the DHD was in working order.

Everything had checked clean when they'd sent it through. The energy readings were the only thing that had drawn them to the other-wise completely dull planet.

Generally speaking SG-1 would be sent on missions involving more dangerous situations on more inhabited planets, leaving researching to other SG teams, but with a lull in the required recon missions Carter proposed to General Hammond that they see to this planet and it's unexplainable power. Jack wasn't thrilled with the idea, obviously, but went along with it mostly to ease the boredom.

He sort of regretted that decision.

They were about half way to the gate when a second beep sounded, followed by another, a sense of urgency riding on the sound waves.

"We've gotta pick it up, guys. We only have a few minutes until the storm reaches us."

The archaeologist leading the pack replied with shortened breath, "Trying, Sam. The wind is awful."

And indeed it was. The ice that was being tossed about by the gale-force winds cut across the team's face wherever exposed, leaving the skin raw, chafed, and near bleeding. The cold in itself was enough to crack open skin and they had to be extremely careful not to lick their lips lest they be frozen with the moisture. In addition, the howling gale pressed onto them, slowing even further their race toward escape.

Taking long, quickened steps, Teal'c took the lead, breaking the wind and clearing a path through the snow for the three humans trailing behind him. Slowly but surely, they found themselves at the crest above where the Stargate was located. Here the gusting was especially strong. The Gate was located at the base of a cliff side, the locationing conveniently creating a snow drift, forcing the snow to gather a few hundred feet from the base, rather than atop the Stargate.

Trudging up the accumulated snow from the drift had been somewhat of a trek, but going down would be much faster and easier on the limbs. Steep as it was, the group found themselves sliding down on their boots - minus the snowshoes -, leaving trails of up-turned snow behind them in flurries quickly caught and whisked away by the winds. They fought for their balance, wobbling and tipping every which way, forcing each to take a turn every now and then to stop and catch their breath as well as find their grounding. It took only a minute to reach the bottom of the pit, but with the sense of impending doom in the form of a snow-storm, it felt like hours.

Rushing over to the DHD, Daniel began to pound in the chevrons for Earth, but to his great surprise and even greater dismay, the keys refused to light up and neither would they lock in on the Stargate. The Dial Home Device was a part of the Stargate, sharing a connection with the gate on it's world and allowing for control over the destination of the gate. Each DHD consisted of 39 symbols, each of those corresponding with different stellar constellations. When seven of these symbols are pressed in a particular order, a wormhole opens up between the two Stargates allowing for travelers to pass between them, delivering them to the target location near instantaneously.

The order the symbols must be pressed depends on your current location and the target location. Much like a telephone, the symbols add up to the location of the target Stargate - an area code, an exact address, and additionally, your current address. Press any one of these out of order and, like a phone, you'll get no answer.

But at this point in time, pressing the keys out of order was not Daniel Jackson's current dilemma.

"Jackson," O'Neill started concernedly, "You gonna start dialing anytime soon?" The captain didn't really feel like being on or even remotely near this planet when the blizzard decided to tear through here on it's rampage.

"I - I can't!" The panicked Egyptologist blurted.

"What do you mean you can't?" Jack attempted to shout over his pounding heart. The wind wasn't so loud down here, but he still felt the need to yell.

"The buttons are stuck, sir! Jammed with ice. We'll need to get it out somehow." Carter interjected, hovering over Jackson's shoulder, attempting in any way possible to assist him and get the first key active.

"Oh well that's alright. We'll just wait til spring, right Teal'c?"

Teal'c didn't say anything, but Jack knew he had raised his eyebrow in the way only Teal'c can.

Shortly, three frenzied squeals fled into their ear canals.

"We only have one minute left!"

In desperation, Daniel tore off his right glove, forcing his fingers beneath the stone buttons, scooping out the snow beneath holding them up. Ice shards jammed themselves snugly into his nailbed, tearing apart the delicate tissue. Any blood that may have tried to escape was quickly frozen and prevented from doing so. So focused was he on this task that he hardly noticed the blue quickly creeping up his fingers, through his veins, paling the skin and shrinking the blood vessels. As quickly as he'd begun, he was forced to stop, Sam peeled away his hands and forced the snow-crusted glove back into his ice-locked claw hand.

"Teal'c, try shooting it with your staff. That should make enough heat to melt it down!" Sam didn't care if this could damage the DHD. If it worked, they'd get out alive. If not, well… They had nothing else to lose.

Teal'c fired three successive shots from his Ma'Tok staff weapon, each shot landing on one of the symbols meant to bring them home. As Sam had hoped, the heat from the plasma weapon had, in fact, melted the compacted snow, but that was only three of the seven they needed and they were out of time.

Sam pointed out the last four symbols and told Teal'c to keep firing even as she turned to watch the rapidly approaching wall of black, which was defying all logic and sweeping towards them against the grain of the normal winds. It thundered across the plains they had traversed just minutes earlier, bringing with it desolation and the certainty of the end. Never else had she experienced such a sensation as feeling emotion _from_ an object instead of _because_ of an object. It was a brief, but overwhelming impression, succumbing only to her own terror at seeing death incarnate before her own eyes.

She was certain that if hell had frozen over, it would look just like this.

Sam was not the only one to feel the boil of rage swelling within the miasma of solidified hydrogen. Jack was frozen with not only the negative temperatures, but with the crushing weight of emotion the cloud seemed to bear. He would later tell himself the cold had been effecting him, but his knees nearly gave out beneath him while trying to support - even comprehend!- the burden of emotion propelling the slashing white particles in their direction. The occurrence was fleeting, there and then not, like a sort of pareidolia caught in the corner of the eye in passing, easily brushed off as something else, or forgotten in its entirety.

Knowing there was no escaping fate this time, Jack beckoned Teal'c over from his firing position and gathered his loyal crew, clasping his hands onto Sam's and Teal'c's shoulders, he looked each of them in the eye, saying nothing. Nothing needed to be said, they all knew what the unspoken words were. They'd spent years in each other's deep trust, saving each others lives and depending on the others to save each of their lives in turn - they knew this group as if each person was an extension of themselves.

Words were obsolete.

Time was irrelevant.

And so were they.

* * *

The horrid crashing sound like a fifty train pile-up forced their instincts to bring them to the ground, backs to the oncoming winds and hands clasped to their ears as if they were born that way. And that was how the storm passed over them, crouched in an attempt to save themselves from the inevitable. And that was how it continued to pass them.

A horrid _**WHOOM**_**-**_**KERCHAAAAAAHHHHH! **_bombarded their eardrums, popping the sensitive hearing organs fifty ways from Friday. At the sudden pressure change, their balance was compromised and their worlds sent spinning, spinning even when their eyes were sewn shut. In Carter's Airforce training she'd adapted long ago to rapid changes in pressure, allowing her to recover first, though still slowly.

Sam came to, eyes still twitching about, trying to find purchase on something that wasn't trying to repeatedly throw itself out of her line of vision.

The only thing she could notice at first was how bright it was now. How very bright.

The light was nearly blinding, jumping at her eyes from every direction.

Carter dragged herself into a sitting position, glancing toward her comrades who were slowly doing the same. Teal'c also seemed to be recovering quickly, as per usual. She made no attempt to look around; It was all she could do to hold her food down, which, she had found, seemed to have come alive and started crawling back up her esophagus.

"CARTER!" The colonel yelled extremely loudly, despite their headsets still aiding their communication, "JACKSON, TEAL'C!"

They returned his call with one of their own, each muttering something about their current condition. That being: they were alive. Miraculously. Astonishingly. Unbelievably.

Daring to crack their eyes open once more, the recognition that the world was now green was not actually all that surprising. More distracting than that was the simple fact that they were still flesh and blood and not freshly formed ice-sculptures.

The source of the green rays was quickly apparent: above and around them, stretching from the cliff wall to the slope of the snow drift was an irradiant dome. The crashing that had kicked down their eardrums like an angry rockstar was soon discovered to have come from the same source. The demented wailing from the blizzard echoed off the curved walls, taunting them with the sight of icy death, held at bay only by a semi-transparent layer of green energy, the resistance it caused against the winds creating the ear-splitting tumult.

The blizzard outside tore apart the landscape, dragging along the salted ground, throwing the frozen particles around like heart-seeking projectiles. A single flake flying at unearthly speeds struck the green half-globe, making a sharp _thik_, and this multiplied by several million was what the four inside were forced to acclimate themselves to.

Balance not yet completely regained, they stood up as quickly as possible, fighting instincts screaming to get some semblance of an idea about the situation. Grasping onto the DHD, Sam pulled herself up, helping Teal'c up by the arm when she had found her own footing. She took quick inventory on the area and found nothing but the nearby Stargate and, disappointingly, more snow.

Scraping himself off the cold ground, the colonel made sure to voice his exact opinion on this matter: "Who the hell designs a 5-minute alarm for deadly blizzards?"

Jack was mildly surprised, and a smidge irritated, that he got no response from anyone. His trio of compatriots were all up and standing, braced against the low pedestal of the DHD, and staring outward to the far side of the radiant bubble holding the storm at bay. What, he wondered, were they looking at?

Getting to his feet, he steadied himself on the arms of Sam and Daniel who both hardly spared him a glance. Frowning at this, he knew he had to find the source of their distress quickly so as to asses the situation for himself, seeing as that his comrades had no intention of filling him in. Taking a deep breath to hold down his lunch from the still-twirling world, he focused as best he could on the direction of their astonished gazes.

He soon discovered that his eyebrows had found placement in his hairline, but then soon decided that, no, that was not where they belonged, so instead he furrowed them down into a scowl. The vision before the quad was very perturbing. The hairs on the back of their necks rose and chills ran down their spines from something that was definitely not the cold. Hearts thumped wildly as they watched mesmerized at something that should only belong in scary stories or horror movies.

Standing outside the protective barrier, a smallish figure stood. From the distance it was difficult to tell exactly what it was, but it was, without a doubt, humanoid. A cloak and hood danced in the hellish winds whipping past this apparently unaffected being. It seemed as if the wind provided no strain against its pose despite the air moving at speeds that were completely unachievable on Earth - the only real effects of the winds were those of the fluttering rags of cloths that adorned this creature, and even those didn't seem to be reacting as they should.

In a slow, deliberate movement that was obviously meant to keep the humans from being taken off guard (an effect that was not achieved), the cloaked figure stepped into and then through the seemingly solid green shield. The other-worldly being passed through the barrier like an oar through water. The glaring emerald opened and sealed itself behind as if the creature had momentarily become a part of the wall itself.

Doing as their instincts and training told them, they armed themselves against the newcomer. They were scantily prepared for action, having only brought side-arms or nothing at all in Daniel's case. Teal'c was the only one who had brought any sort of battle-ready weapon with him.

Jack stepped forward, tapping Jackson on the shoulder in a silent request to trade places. Not needing any sort of verbal queue, Daniel swapped with the colonel, instead taking residence adjacently between their leader and Teal'c.

An impregnable moment passed before anything happened. Jack was a bit weary of the situation, as he well should be, and didn't know how to best broach the silence. He had no idea who or what this thing was or what it was capable of. He was usually a little better grounded, and armed, when approaching the unknown, and even usually the unknown had some sort of background in something he _did_ know. But this did not. This was completely uncharted territory.

He guessed he should test the waters.

"Who are you?" It wasn't as much a question as it was a demand. Hopefully it understood English.

The person before them was still a ways off, but now that the green light wasn't obscuring the vision between them it was much easier to tell that this being was either young or a woman by Earthly standards. Short and slight, the figure stood at about 5"4'. Aside from the cloak, it appeared that this apparition was bear footed and had some wear-torn shorts and t-shirt on beneath. The cloak itself was clasped together with a broach which appeared to be some sort of symbol. Color was hard to determine beneath the harsh neon that provided their only light, but it's attire seemed to consist entirely of a black and white color scheme.

Brashly, this being moved forward despite the weapons pointed in it's direction.

Jack shouted a warning, "Don't take another step!" shaking his pistol lightly to get the point across.

It stopped and, though the hood hid it's eyes and, unnaturally it seemed, shadowed it's entire face, all could tell it looked at Jack.

O'Neill repeated his first question.

At first it seemed the creature would not talk until a frowning voice came from under the sheltering cloak. "I'd like to get closer to speak, so we don't have to shout."

The voice rang out crystal clear within the semi-orb they were trapped in, seemingly speaking from every where at once. The sensation was odd, and almost as if it had come from inside his head. Peripherally he looked to his squad to see their reaction was just as curious and confused as his. Jack was startled but undeterred. "Yeah, well I like to know who I'm speaking to before I get close to them," he announced, though not rudely.

Daniel gave Jack a sidelong look from beneath his goggles. "I don't think it's out to hurt us, Jack."

O'Neill considered this. Usually when Jackson made an assumption about something he was either right on or dead wrong. In this instance he had no matter of precedence to base a decision towards approaching this unknown with anything but a solid defense. Caution seemed to be the best course of action as it always did when dealing with the unknowns. If Daniel was right this would play out fine with a bit of verbiage between the two parties, but if he was wrong it would put them in a mighty predicament.

Jack didn't know how this what-ever-it-was managed to stand outside in the blizzard since the major had made it very clear nothing could possibly be alive out there, or even how it walked through the verdant dome they were beneath like air. His best guess was that it was a projection of some sort, a hologram. But if it was, why would it stop at the threat of weaponry?

With a deepened scowl, Jack made a decision. He lowered his weapon to the defense, taking away direct aim at his target though not disarming himself. He nodded toward Sam and Teal'c to do the same. He trusted the young archaeologist's intuition the same he would trust Carter to find an escape route and Teal'c to watch his 6. Of course there was room for error, but he felt comfortable with these choices and with his trust in them.

Taking this as his queue to approach, the bare-footed being stepped forward, pushing aside the snow with it's toes rather than stepping into it. It left no footprints. The cape was also long enough to brush the ground and yet left no trace. Nothing was left to be seen but the ghostly visage of the oncoming creature.

Stopping it's approach at a comfortable distance a few meters away, details were a bit more readily available, though Jack had been right when he had taken inventory on the person's choice of attire. Despite the temperatures that would have sunk mercury through the bottom of a thermometer, it wore not much more than a pair of weather-worn jean shorts, a ragged white cotton shirt, and the cloak that was still obscuring the other's features. The broach that clipped the sides of the cape snugly together was, in fact, a symbol as he had guessed. It looked to him to be an incomplete letter D, the gap at the bottom creating an opening for the base of the letter P which was cut out from the center.

Though he couldn't see it's face or arms from the cloak, Jack could tell the creature was as pale as death. The toes showed signs of such a case as well, appearing slightly translucent as long-cooled flesh often does. Ashen legs were formed of lanky muscle, toned from walking and hard labor and wrapped with thinned, undernourished skin.

Even with only a few steps separating them, it was hard to tell it's gender, assuming it had one. The airy voice that had found the four off-worlders had not given any inclination to the matter. It was likely they wouldn't know for sure unless the face of this phantom was revealed.

Silence overtook the crowd, each party observing the other, not sure who should make the first move. Jack, as always, decided to break the almost awkward silence.

"Nice weather."

The hooded alien's shoulders twitched. It could have been a flinch, a laugh, or even a shrug.

"Seen better," the blackness beneath the hood replied in the same tone. Now more seriously it turned it's shaded gaze on each member of the quad, letting it rest on Teal'c. "Jaffa." The word was laced with many emotions. Not quite accusatory, almost a question, and nearly a hostile greeting.

Teal'c didn't even flinch.

Jumping in before anything could escalate, Jackson made to inform the being that Teal'c was no longer affiliated with the Goa'uld. Although Teal'c had once been the First Prime - the right hand - of Apophis, the man had broken away from the parasite infested man that he had once believed was a god. The Goa'uld that had taken over the body of an ancient Egyptian man had called himself a god, created a powerful army of Jaffa ,and ruled this section of the galaxy for several thousands of years. The Jaffa were men and women that were "honored" with carrying the symbiotic, undeveloped version of a Goa'uld within a pouch created in their abdomen, and Teal'c was the first among them to free himself from the tyrant's rule.

Teal'c had betrayed his ruler in favor of Jack O'Neill and his crew. SG-1 had been caught while exploring a foreign world - Chulak - before the SGC had gotten a good grip on the going-ons of the galaxy's system and were thrown into a Goa'uld holding cell to be slain along with nearly one-hundred other captives. Moments before the room was about to become a blood bath, Jack made a plea to Teal'c - to the one of the most powerful Jaffa in the galaxy. The colonel claimed he could save all of the people that were about to be slaughtered, Teal'c had heard this same line many times before. The blathering of men hoping to save their own hides, but this time… this time, Teal'c believed that this off-worlder would be able to do what the others could not.

Together they broke through the stone walls with staff weapons and charged for the Stargate. Refugees fled with them, seeking the safety that these aliens offered. Upon arriving at Earth, Teal'c was swept away by security and locked up for questioning. It didn't take long for Jack to convince General Hammond of Teal'c's authenticity. Jack nearly foamed at the mouth fighting in favor of a man he hardly knew because what he did know was that this alien had betrayed the enemy in light of morals and trust in calculated chance. In O'Neill's mind, that was all that was needed to be considered an ally.

Jackson explained this to the black and white adorned being before them, though not in so many words.

"I see." Was the only reply. Nodding toward the DHD that separated them, it continued. "Where were you going?"

Gaping slightly that the person seemed to know what the DHD was and it's purpose, Daniel's only response was to tap on the symbol that represented their homeworld. In the linguist's experience it did no good to tell an extraterrestrial they were going to Earth, but to show them the symbol. The Stargate's symbol represented the same place in all languages, no matter the name they chose to call it.

Sparing a glance toward Jack and his weapon, the short being took a slow step forward to see which chevron was being indicated. At a slight nod, it receded to it's previous standpoint and asked, "What do you call it?"

Daniel replied simply, yet curiously: "Earth."

All at once the world seemed to still. For a heartbeat even the blizzard was silent. It seemed as if time itself stood still for one excruciating moment, and so much like the storm had sent a feeling of rage throughout SG-1, this chest-crushing second washed through them with a thousand lifetimes worth of yearning. The brief flicker of this emotion that felt so much like heart-break left them gasping and bewildered.

In one swift movement, the hood was thrown off, revealing a startling image that was hidden beneath. A boy, no older than 14 stood on shaky knees. Hair whiter than snow and a soft, though almost angular face of a boy about to become a young man framed vibrant viridian irises. Tears pooled there, gleaming with something akin to hope.

"Earth?" He whispered breathlessly.

The boy struck his knees like a lost man seeking his final forgiveness from god, tears jarring themselves from his eyes as he did so, sending them rolling down his pale cheeks.

"Please. Please tell me you said _Earth!_"

* * *

_Author's Note: Thank you for reading. Any and all comments will be greatly appreciated before being fed to my starving muse. _

_Remember to check out theholycheese's story "_A Dead God and the Live Team" _as without that story, this one would never have come to exist. _


	2. Sterling Wraith

_Author's Note: First off, I want to personally thank all of you for your outstanding response to this story. Almost 20 review?! Seriously, thank all of you! I didn't think a cross over - let alone MINE - would be so popular. Thank you all for making this happen._

_Secondly: Yeah... it took me a while. Got a bit caught up in the _Dr. Who _universe. I'm not done there yet, either, so updates will probably be just as irregular as this one, sad as that is. I hope you all can forgive me!_

* * *

SG-1 reeled back, shocked at the sudden display. They shared a look, not at all prepared for such a response and not entirely knowing how to react. Earth, seemingly the blandest of all the gated worlds evoked an almost hysterical breakdown in a person that certainly couldn't have come from that planet. Though if the tears were any indication, the boy did have an emotional attachment. An attachment to the name or to the actual planet remained to be seen.

Daniel found himself at the center of his friends' focus and knew they expected him to be the one to respond. Habitually he reached up with his right hand to fix his glasses before he spoke, but as he did so he quickly discovered two things: one, his glasses were sheltered behind his goggles, and two, his right hand was completely frozen. He couldn't even feel it. It was still stuck like a claw, fingers curled from when he was desperately scratching out the ice from beneath the chevrons on the DHD. The skin was remarkably white with just a tinge of icy azure, leaving no doubts about the death of the tissue.

The Egyptologist choked back a yell, the remnants of that coming out as a panicked yelp. He held out the stiffened digits as if they were something completely alien to his own body, examining them with horrified interest. His distress immediately drew the attention of his allies, whose only verbal reaction came from Sam.

"Daniel!"

Focused as she was on the newly aggrieved man, Carter had no care to notice the alien whose head snapped to face her at the call of the name. The former pilot sheathed her pistol and slipped behind Jack's shoulder to get to Daniel and asses his wound, despite knowing it was too late to do much for it. Sam reached for the blue appendage, but held herself back from touching it. The historian shook his head in amazed bewilderment.

"I didn't even feel it happening," he said to no one in particular. "It doesn't feel cold at all." He turned his hand around to study the blue blush of his cuticles and blackened veins spidering on the back of his hand and across his wrist.

Not knowing what else to say, she replied in a way most familiar to her. "The wind picked up before the blizzard reached us, it must have made the actual temperature drop near negative 150 or almost 200 degrees. That's enough to freeze cellulose in a matter of seconds, deep tissue frozen in less than half a minute." She turned to Jack urgently, "We've gotta get back to base; Now."

Hating himself for having to reject his instinct to keep an eye on the threat, he tossed a glance toward Jackson's desiccated hand and had to agree with Carter. The only issue was getting around this crazy-emotional white haired kid. The position they were in now left them with SG-1 beside the DHD and the kid a couple yards away on the other side. If they moved to the front of the DHD, they'd be practically within arm's reach of each other, far too close for comfort. Jack had been deceived way too many times already to allow himself to fall into a sense of security, even if this did seem to be just a kid.

Jack scowled at himself. He knew they had to get back to Earth, and he also knew that he didn't know what this kid was capable of. He was certainly an alien, and that left much to the unknown, though he did know that the boy had some sort of attachment to SG-1's home planet.

Coming to a decision, Jack knew that to be able to bring down his guard around the alien, he'd have to get to know him and his intentions. Perhaps if he could do this, he could make a move toward the Gate and get Jackson home to some medical treatment. Knowing that Jackson was in no position to be their voice, what with the shock he was in, Jack took over the speaking role. But before Jack could find words the alien spoke first.

As if there weren't still tears sitting on his cheeks, the cloaked child helped himself to his feet and gestured to Daniel's wound. "Sorry about that." The child's gaze seemed a bit dazed, as if he had been the one to have a limb turned to ice.

Thinking this an odd comment, Jackson's only reply was a perplexed nod.

"I can help you." The kid took a step forward, eyes still glazed and unseeing, but SG-1's reaction was instant. Taking a defensive back-step, previously holstered and downward pointed weapons were aimed and readied, Teal'c's staff weapon humming threateningly, ready to discharge a lethal bolt at its handler's call. Emotions flickered across the boy's face: fear, humor, understanding, consternation, concern, until it finally settled on a look that was half way between confused and agitated. "Fine. It's not my hand."

Wanting to take control of the situation, O'Neill decided he'd start to ask questions "Who are you?"

Eyeballing the older man, the alien's piercing emerald eyes roved over the perceived threat, apparently, Jack assumed, considering his choices. He could answer, or he could refuse, but really what harm would come of this simple question? Likely coming to the same conclusion, the kid replied, though not so helpfully. "I doubt if you'd know me," Tossing a glance at Teal'c, he continued, "but he might." He paused a moment, leaving Jack to wonder if the kid was going to continue or if he was going to have to press for the information, but the cloaked boy spoke again. "Around here they know me by a few different names: The Hero of Purus Terre, Savior of Spirits, Amatsu-yurei-o-kami, and the Sterling Wraith, but I prefer Danny Phantom." The words presented themselves with no pride despite the heroic deeds the epithets hinted at, instead revealing nothing but a touch of sorrow derived from achieving these names.

Jack glanced to Teal'c, checking his reaction to the list of nouns, but could see nothing in his body language and his face, along with the rest of SG-1 was still covered, though the colonel doubted much would have shown there either. The man's stoic expression rarely changed but for when he was confused, amused, or surprised and even the feelings only showed with the arching of an eyebrow.

"You know this guy?" Jack prompted.

Teal'c shifted his grip on his staff weapon, "A great and ancient enemy of the Goa'uld. It is said that the Sterling Wraith is the only thing that has kept the Goa'uld from expanding their control. He and his partner have toppled many kingdoms in their time, traveling from beyond this galaxy to impose their values of justice on the races they encounter."

The traveler's eyebrows shot up, "Is that what they're saying now?" He hummed slightly, "I suppose it depends on who you're talking to, isn't that right, First Prime of Apophis?"

For a few moments a tense air settled on the group. The white-haired child seemed to carry a hint of disdain for the Jaffa, though was not entirely directed at Teal'c.

Teal'c conceded with a nod, though he made no attempt to recant or amend what he said, despite how it had apparently offended the oddly dressed child. With a curiosity and the pressing need to know the danger he was in, Teal'c asked, "Where is your partner now, Wraith?"

The tense air now practically sang with energy, flickering static crawling along Phantom's palms, "The same place as your 'gods', Jaffa! The same place as any 'god.'" The cloaked spirit spat with venom, a fire in his eyes.

Though they had no idea what he might have meant by that, this was clearly not a subject to be treading on. SG-1 could hardly understand how electricity could be snapping along the being's fingers as it was, let alone all this talk of his 'partner.'

"Let me ask you this, Jaffa," Phantom spoke again after he apparently shook the energy from his fingers, "do you believe those stories? Is that the truth you accept or a tale told to you by your mother to keep you acting properly for fear of punishment from the 'Sterling Wraith?'" The caustic words hung in the air like acrid smoke. Teal'c did not respond.

Phantom let out a deep breath, his head falling back into his shoulders as he eyes closed. After a moment he sucked a breath his nose and rolled his shoulders and brought his face back forward. The look on Phantom's face was almost an apologetic one - almost, but not quite. It looked quite a bit more like pity.

"Sorry," he muttered, "misplaced aggression, I guess. You have no idea what I'm talking about - that's not your fault." Although Teal'c described Phantom as being as old a the Goa'uld, it was awfully hard to tell with the embarrassed face he was pulling now. He looked just like a 14-year-old boy who'd just accidentally yelled at his mom for knocking on his bedroom door after he'd had a long day.

From behind O'Neill, Daniel began to mutter some words. Bringing his mind to focus on something other than his immovable digits, the polyglot rolled the words around on his tongue like a caveman chewing on rocks, trying to find the meaning in them. "Purus Terre…" he trailed off, frown and thought clouding his face. "Buddhist realm of the gods, practically paradise." The historian began to pick apart Phantom's many names, the process apparently slow going. "Reaching the 'Pure Land' is only possible by attaining enlightenment - either through rigorous meditation, or being reborn there."

As Daniel dug through his mental archives to relate his information, the newly dubbed "Danny Phantom" eyed the portal wistfully, yearning written all over his features and a fleck of impatience shadowing his countenance.

"Amatsu-yurei-o-kami. Japanese for 'Great God, Heavenly Ghost.'" The historian gazed upon nothing in particular while reciting the translation, but his eyes lit up as he recalled something relevant. "The name isn't mentioned in any Earth text that I've read, but it comes up frequently in other planet's that we've gated to. He's referred to as a patron saint or god that combats evil on every level, righting the wrongs of a planet, country, city, or even individuals by granting blessings. According to the cultures that have written of him, he has stood against the Goa'uld since their rise to power." Jackson gazed curiously at the boy, eyebrows furrowed as if they were digging for the answers to an unasked question.

"You mean," Sam spoke in awe, "he's over 24,000 years old?"

Daniel nodded. The Goa'uld had begun their rise in the galaxy about that long ago, meaning that this being had to be at least that old, if not older, assuming Teal'c's history was correct. There was really no telling how aged this alien was without going straight to the source. Of course, the alien could be fabricating his story to win over the minds of SG-1; It would make sense, seeing as he was being held at gun point. It's usually a good idea to try to befriend your captors and this child, though he may seem, was smart enough to know this. Then again, if he wasn't lying, if he actually was an enemy of the Goa'uld for over 24,000 years, the technology he must wield would be outstanding. And not only the technology, but the information he must hold, the strategies he would have formed, the histories he must have experienced in person would be mind boggling.

With no hint of hesitation, Daniel called out to the being before his company. "Phantom," he began, slightly shocked at the look that lingered in the boy's eyes before he was snapped from his reverie, but the linguist continued none the less, "could you actually heal my hand?"

The boy blinked a couple times, regaining his bearings and focusing on the conversation. "Yeah, sure. It would only take a couple seconds."

Daniel glanced to his side, catching Jack's unsure gaze before stepping forward.

"Daniel," Jack said warningly, reaching out to grab the man by his shoulder. Spinning him around but keeping his peripherals on the white-haired kid, Jack snapped at the spectacled man. "What are you doing?"

With a spark in his eye, Jackson replied, "Trust me on this, Jack."

His hand still resting on the man's shoulder, O'Neill searched his companion's face, looking for something there. Finding nothing, he frowned, "Hope you know what you're doing," and let him go. Jackson trudged the last couple steps through the snow to the seemingly harmless boy with radioactive eyes.

Danny Phantom reached out for Daniel's hand slowly, his body angled so as to face both Jack and Daniel both. This action, the linguist decided, was likely to keep the Colonel from being too jumpy. Yet another sign of the truth of the boy's age and wisdom, but the true test had yet to be seen. If this alien actually could heal Daniel as easily as he said he could, it would leave no doubt in the mind of this SG-1 member that he was who he said - the fabled hero of paradise and enemy to their enemy.

Grabbing the man's hand, Danny looked up at the Earthling's face, serious as a surgeon before a major operation. The look left a knot in Jackson's gut, but he did not pull back. "I'm gonna warn you," the kid said, "this is probably going to hurt. Treating frostbite always hurts more than treating a burn." Still Jackson didn't pull away.

"There's not much they can do for this on Ea- at home." Daniel caught himself before actually saying the name of his home planet in fear that Phantom had a response like the last. Jackson didn't really understand the pain he felt when the boy collapsed, but he was going to avoid it if at all possible and if it was as simple as not saying "Earth" he could do that. "They'd have to amputate it," Jackson concluded, "so if there is anything you can do to save it, even if there's a little pain involved, well… I'd really like to keep my hand."

Phantom pursed his lips and nodded. "Alright then, just try not to pull away." He then took the frozen limb in one of his hands and rolled up the heavy coat sleeve to the man's bicep before taking his unoccupied hand to feel from wrist to elbow. Phantom made this action once more, the second time coming to a stop midway between the two main joints in the forelimb. Nodding to himself Phantom spoke again, "It's better if you don't watch." So the boy spun so that his back was toward SG-1 and Jackson and, taking his cloak, tossed it over the afflicted limb. Looking over his shoulder at Daniel he told the man to ready himself. Nodding his assent, Phantom took his queue and turned back to his task.

Moments later, Jackson felt a heat spreading from the center of his forearm down toward his wrist. At first the heat was pleasant, a relief from the ever-present chill that had surrounded them all. As it went on, it traveled like a trickle of water, irritating and itchy in its slowness. Finally it made its way to just before his wrist when Phantom muttered, "Here it goes." Suddenly the trickle of heat became a rush, pushing its way through his veins, feeling much like his blood had just been replaced with boiling water. Jackson couldn't help but let out a pained scream, leaning back in an attempt to reclaim his arm, but to no avail. Phantom's grip on his limb was too strong to overcome.

Even through his panic Jackson could feel the heat pushing its way through his veins, having begun at his wrist and spread toward his fingers, he couldn't help but compare it to someone slipping their own hand into his as if it were a glove. To keep the sensation from reaching his sensitive fingertips, on instinct he surged forward, causing Phantom's cape to fall from its place to reveal what exactly was going on.

Saying he felt like someone was putting his hand on like a glove was not very far from the truth. Phantom's own arm was, somehow, submerged within his own, beginning where Jackson had first felt the growing warmth. It seemed that Phantom was not about to end his task with this interruption as the burning blood continued to force itself into his fingers, but before Jackson could try to pull away again Phantom jammed his free fingers into the crook of the historian's elbow, forcing it to bend and allowing for Phantom's arm to sink the rest of the way into Jackson's flesh, and, subsequently, all the way into his fingers.

The burning continued to flare, Phantom still not releasing the appendage. Slowly the fingers began to flex on their own accord, stretching outward from their claw-like position to adapt a much more natural pose. Despite all of Jackson's squalling and struggling, Phantom hadn't budged an inch. After curling and flexing the digits a couple more times, the heat began to recede, crawling at a snail's pace back toward where Phantom's forearm was inserted. Eventually, with sweet relief, the two being's limbs were separate once again and only then did Phantom take his fingers out from the crook of the historian's arm and left him to stumble backward a pace.

The process had taken less than thirty seconds, but it felt like an eternity to all parties. Upon hearing their friend's distress, SG-1 had attempted to come to his aid, but as soon as they made a move to do so, another green dome enclosed the two. This dome was much, much smaller than the one they were currently encompassed by; the larger one sheltered enough area to enclose the area from the top of the cliff the gate was standing in front of all the way to the base of the drift that the team had clambered down, meaning it spanned a goodly 75-100 feet toward the top of the cliff and the same distance at the base. This smaller one was no more than, what would be, a sphere twelve feet in diameter, assuming it reached beneath the snowy ground.

As such, Daniel's companions could not reach him, blocked by this barrier. The force field was bright, but still transparent and though they could not feel it through their gloves, it seemed to be smooth and slightly flexible, much like an over-inflated balloon. Jack was tempted to test the durability of this "balloon" with his pistol, but before he could, Jackson's screams subsided.

The dome dissipated as quickly as it formed allowing a member to surge forward to stable Jackson and the other two to purpose themselves with readying their weapons against the threat. Sam pulled Daniel back into line with the other members of the exploratory team, away from the being that had just assaulted him and into a protective pocket of weaponry. Daniel's mind was reeling after being released from the sudden pain, still struggling to recover from the burning agony that had enveloped his hand.

Leaning on Carter, he took a moment to capture his breath and come into focus on his redeemed digits. Stiffly he moved them, touching his thumb to every finger, smiling as sensation returned to them. He stood amazed at this miracle - movement in muscle and tissue he had considered dead. Carter, too, looked on in awe, baffled at how it could be possible to heal such a debilitating injury in the span of a few seconds.

As the doctor and scientist looked on, the alien under the sights of weaponry also watched the spectacle of the contracting muscle and sliding ligaments though with a scowl darkening his face. "I told you it would hurt." The teen's voice spoke out to gather the doctor's attention.

After slipping his glove back on to ensure the continued function of the appendage, the doctor looked back to his healer. "Yeah, you did, but what exactly did you do to my arm?" Daniel had looked over the area where Phantom's arm had been merging with his own, but saw no blemishing, nothing at all to show what had occurred.

Scowl deepening, Phantom was a bit irate with his reply, "You weren't supposed to see." Not saying anything else to the historian, Phantom then growled at the two men holding him at weapon's point, "Look, I'm not going to hurt you, just like I didn't hurt him. Would you kindly put those away?"

Jack, not at all convinced, did not stand down. "Sure, if you want to explain how you put your arm inside of his." There was no way that the colonel was going ignore the fact that this alien had somehow defied the laws of physics by putting two solid objects inside of each other like some sort of ghost ship passing through the Bermuda Triangle.

Phantom glared at Jack, a battle of the wills. Jack assumed he would win, considering that he had the gun, but he was soon to be proven wrong. Without out breaking eye contact the white haired boy spoke again, "I don't have to ask. The only reason I did is because I think pointing a barrel at the person who saved you is a little rude and I was trying to pass the hint. Maybe next time I won't be so forgiving." As he said this, the green dome keeping them all from being smothered in killing frost began to waver, the humming sound waxing and waning along with the light the dome was providing.

The four planet explorers shifted anxiously, not wanting to endure the same freezing decay that Jackson had undergone. Sam sidled up to the Colonel, also keeping her eyes on the boy, curiously locked on his glowing green orbs. "Colonel, I really think he doesn't mean us any harm. Assuming he's the one who constructed this energy field, he-"

"Can take it down just as easily? Yeah, I got that part." He snapped, not at all okay with being threatened, but really, what could he do about it? He was, for all intents and purposes at the mercy of this alien. If he didn't comply and kept his aim it would only lead to further conflict, but putting his weapon down meant he was willingly putting his life in the hands of another being, one that he didn't know and couldn't trust.

"Not just that, but he is the enemy of our enemy." She turned to him seriously, "If we do this right, he might become one of our most powerful allies."

Jack considered this. They had come all the way out to this barren globe seeking whatever had caused the energy reading that the probe had picked up. If this kid had access to the kind of technology that could make those readings then there might be something worthwhile in an arrangement being settled here. Jack was forced to admit that even if the turnout from the MALP was caused solely by the a force field like this one, then the shield must be extremely strong, despite the flexibility he'd felt in the smaller version.

Coming to an almost painful decision, O'Neill lowered his weapon, Teal'c hesitantly following suit.

Phantom's mood switched like a light, grinning excitedly when the sights were taken off of him. "You'll take me to Earth with you, won't you?" If it weren't for the sudden mood swings, Jack could almost imagine the kid as an over-excited puppy.

Sam, though confused, was the one to answer, her voice belied her amusement at the child's actions, "Would you be willing to speak to our commander at the base? About negotiations, that is."

Phantom blinked, looking a little confused, "Negotiations? Uhh, sure. I suppose so." Then the grin was back, "Beats this dead rock!"

Jack was still unsure.

Nothing about this situation felt normal. The kid himself was out on a frozen planet, had stood in the middle of a killing blizzard, and stuck his arm inside of a person as if it were nothing but jelly, _and_, not to mention, he was completely emotionally unstable! He didn't know how he felt about this; On one hand this could turn out to be a very good thing, but on the other, they might be bringing death incarnate into the SGC. Onto _Earth! _

Jack's only consolation was that the kid seemed to like Earth - though what attachment he had to it was still to be seen. Jackson seemed to be confident that this was a good plan, calling him a "patron saint" and all that, but Teal'c had also said that this kid acted out judgment on entire civilizations. If that were true, how would he react to the wars and inhumanities that could be found on Earth? This was assuming that this kid actually was who he said. Assuming he was _twenty-four thousand_ years old. All of this was rather far-fetched as far as the colonel was concerned. If he hadn't been here to see it with his own two eyes, he'd never have believed it. It made him wonder just how General Hammond was going to react.

Seeing that the only way to solve any of these mysteries was to take a leap of faith, the leader of SG-1 decided to do just that. Though a bit worried about how all of this would turn out, he knew he had to take a chance.

"One problem," the colonel interrupted, gesturing to the DHD, "It's still frozen. Silly old me forgot my pocket-sized blowtorch at home today!" Jack pretended to snap his fingers at his forgetfulness, the gloves keeping him from actually doing so.

Phantom shrugged, "No problem. Easy fix." The boy looked at the DHD, Jack waving him toward it as if saying "be my guest."

"And I suppose you remembered your pocket torch, huh?"

The alien winked, the eyelid briefly extinguishing the light projecting from one of his irises, "I've got even better."

SG-1 stood to either side of Phantom as the white-haired boy held his hands out, cupped upward. A second passed and nothing happened until slowly a green light, much like the light that came from the giant dome covering them began to gather in the boy's hands. The light sat there in his palms, a faint glow like that of a distant car's headlights in a fog - if that fog were jade in hue. When the light filled his hands, Phantom poured the glow over the DHD. The group watched as the vapor settled into the cracks between the buttons on the huge device. As soon as the mis touched the ice, steam and liquid began to roll off leaving nothing but a few droplets of water behind.

Sam stuttered a moment before managing to spit out what was on her tongue, "How did you do that?" She questioned emphatically, eager to learn more on this profound discovery.

"Magic," Phantom whispered, mischief twinkling in his eyes. Sam was quite suddenly reminded of the way her grandfather looked at her when she asked that same exact question after he had pulled a quarter from her ear. The scientist found herself a little dizzied at the thought of Phantom's age - the wisdom that must come with several millennia of life.

"Right," Phantom clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention away from the small spectacle he'd put on. "We good then, yeah?"

The cogs turned back on in the team's heads, nods coming from all around. Phantom took a step back and let Jackson man the gate's controls. The archaeologist was eager to try out the function of his reclaimed appendage and see if Phantom's trick had really removed all of the ice that Jackson had risked his own limb on trying to do the same. The healed man made quick work of the chevrons, hardly watching the buttons light up beneath his fingertips before he slammed his palm down on the ruby dome in the center. At once the perfectly circular gate jumped to life. The chevrons encircling it's edge locking in as Daniel had punched in the code. Shimmering blue-white light erupted from the circle of the gate like a geyser before settling into place, leaving behind an upright pool of water. The waters shimmered and rippled just slightly, reinforcing the wormhole's appearance as the glittering surface of a lake. The light from the gate overwhelmed that coming from the time, leaving a blue reflection on the snow before the mis-matched group standing in front of it.

Phantom's breath hitched and he let out and excited laugh, he spared no glance toward the exploratory team as he vaulted over the DHD and sprinted toward the gate. Carter barely managed to stop him from jumping in headlong. She quickly explained to him that the other side of the gate was blocked off to prevent unauthorized entry into Earth. Any of the teams out exploring would have to send a code via a remote signal through the connection the gate created to the SGC who would then remove the barrier. If someone were to pass through the gate before the code got to the other side they would be unable to materialize and die as a result.

This gave Phantom pause, his glowing green eyes curious. "Hey, that's a pretty good idea. Bit more advanced than putting a rock in front of it, huh?"

The scientist laughed as she approached where Phantom stood, "Same general idea, I suppose: keep the bad guys out." She then bit off her right hand glove and pushed up her left coat sleeve to reveal a black box strapped to her forearm. It took only a moment for her to finish and slip her glove back on.

"Alright, we're good to go."

"Oh," the boy's eyes lit up in sudden thought, " did you want to keep that?" He indicated the MALP with a nod of his head. It was parked beside the gate, buried in several inches of snow.

"Another team will be sent through later to get it," she supplied as an answer.

Phantom looked at her as if she were crazy, "This storm isn't stopping any time soon, everything here is going to be buried."

"Oh," she said concernedly. She looked to the colonel, wanting his opinion in the matter.

The man just shrugged, "It's coming out of Uncle Sam's pocket, not mine."

"Well we really have no way of getting it through - we don't have the controls." Carter supplied, "Wouldn't be the first one we've lost."

"I could pull it through if you want," the scrawny, malnourished, child offered sincerely.

Skeptical was a bit of an understatement for how Carter felt about that statement. Phantom had the ability to construct an energy field and to heal the wounded, but he definitely did not have the physique to even attempt to pull the several hundred pound probe several yards from where it sat and into the gate, advanced technology or not.

"It's way too heavy," she said shaking her head, "really it's not that big of a deal."

Phantom looked unamused. With no preamble, the boy grabbed onto the front of the probe with one hand and yanked it out of the snow, hauling it to the face of the wriggling wormhole.

"Can we go?" He bounced on his feet impatiently, a shit-eating grin on his face.

SG-1 stood there amazed and confused, mouths agape until Jack gestured them forward, letting Carter and Teal'c take the lead into the gate. Phantom unable to wait a moment longer tailed them, the MALP scraping along buckets of snow through the gate as it was drug behind him. Jack and Daniel shared a brief look before falling into step behind them.

* * *

_ Author's Note: I know this one was a bit shorter, but I really just wanted to get it posted and thought this was a pretty good place to stop. Next chapter will be.. I'm not sure if I want to say "fun" or not, but it'll be an adventure. Wish me luck, guys!_

_ Please review! There was one review I got from the last chapter that really spurred me into finishing this one. You know who you are! Thank you so much!_


	3. Time with the Doctor

_Author's Note: This chapter goes to Ect0Gh0st for being an amazing person and helping me out not only with the story, but with my confidence it. You are truly awesome, my friend._

* * *

Though they only walked through the event horizon, in reality this was one of the largest steps in all of mankind. One step reaching several thousands of light years in distance, from one planet to another, from one half of the galaxy to the other in an instant.

The dematerialization and subsequent rematerialization were done faster than the human eye could perceive - possibly faster than light considering that that was how fast the matter's particles were weaving their way across the galaxy through the wormhole.

And so the five snow-covered persons retreated into the relative warmth of the SGC's Gateroom. The first and last two to enter the room were rather non-descript the way they were stuffed inside of their snow suits. Smothered head-to-toe in the protective clothing made even gender difficult to distinguish. But, much more interestingly, was the fifth member caught walking between the others, dressed in close to nothing in comparison.

Scantily clad in his ragged jean-shorts, t-shirt, and cloak, Phantom brushed off the white flakes with his spare hand - the hand that wasn't pulling the military prove behind him, that was. The boy's eyes shimmered joyfully, his breath hitching at the sight of Earth- despite the blandness of the Gateroom being all he could see.

Upon arrival on Earth two things managed to keep Phantom grounded to the military base, those being the flashing red lights and the distant call for a General Hammond to report to the control room over the PA. A siren blared a warning, grating and very annoying on the ears.

Teal'c and Sam halted in front of him, Jackson and O'Neill approaching the front of the ensemble. Jack waved his arms up at the reflective glass some twenty feed above their heads.

"He's a friendly," he announced, though neither the flashing lights nor the armed guards stood down.

"Colonel O'Neill, who is this?" A deep voice rand through the speakers in the cavernous room. Behind them the gateway from the frozen planet died out, leaving the room a little dimmer and quieter - the sirens stopping as the gate's light faded out.

"We found him stranded on P-5D... that planet we were on and he was all cold and alone and - can we keep him?" Jack enthused in his best imitation of a 6-year-old.

There was a moment of silence from the com, Jack imagining Hammond with his face in his palm.

"Pretty please?" The military man fake pleaded.

A new voice, higher pitched than the last - Jack identified it as Walter's - can into the mic. "SG-1 to the briefing room." The guards took this as the signal to stand down, the red flashing ending then too.

"Yes!" Jack cheered as the squad made for the doorway on the far left, nudging Teal'c with his elbow. "Works every time," he whispered conspiratorially.

Coming to the doorway, Carter asked a guard to escort Phantom to the infirmary. Phantom was, at the moment, still standing in front of the gate, spinning himself in a circle to take in his surroundings. The MALP had since been dropped onto the grate ramp leading up to the gate with an unceremonious clang.

Hearing himself being spoken about, he hurried over, but not before Jack managed to ask the same guard to keep an eye on the unpredictable boy.

"We'll meet you in the infirmary, alright?" Carter asked him.

Phantom looked at her oddly, "Uhh, sure." And they went their separate ways - Phantom to Doctor Fraiser and SG-1 to General Hammond - with a quick pit stop at the changing rooms.

Now in their usual GI garments, the team made their way into the briefing from where they met up with a stalwart, bald-headed mad. The man stood at his chair waiting to greet them, his many badges and tassels twinkling and swaying as he waved them in and toward the oval table. Polished and clean just as everything in the General's usual proximity was, the oak table gleamed beneath the bright bulbs fastened into the reinforced concrete ceiling. Forget the walls, if this table had ears it would know more secrets about the known galaxy than any one person on Earth. All of the discussions to be made before or after an offworld trip took place here, in addition to whatever meetings the General had with sources from outside the SGC's usual circle.

The SGC is Earth's first and most prominent defense against any other-worldly threat as without them Earth would likely have already been destroyed several times over. Of course without them those threats wouldn't have known of Earth's presence in the first place, but that is most definitely beside the point! The point was, Earth had no idea what they stood against in the cast universe, but after the discovery of the Stargate in Egypt they had to make sure it stayed that way.

That being said, Earth's first defense was about to be reprimanded by a not-so-amused General Hammond. As they all were seated the ruddy-faced man let out a world-weary sigh, preparing himself for whatever it was that Jack had done this time. "Who was that boy, Colonel," he started off simply with no preamble.

"Calls himself 'Danny Phantom,' along with a bunch of other names, but they were all Greek to me. Found him out on Artica when we were about to be hit by a blizzard - which, I might add, has a really crappy warning system," he pointed at Hammond to make sure the man got the idea. "Then I guess Phantom made this kind of -" he motioned a dome with his hands, "- force field around us and the Gate before it could hit."

The General nodded, filling in some of the gaps himself. Obviously SG-1 got themselves into a position they couldn't get back out of and were saved by this "Danny Phantom" character somehow. He made a mental note that he owed the other a favor for that. He now addressed Carter, "Major, I thought you said there was no chance of life existing on that planet." His voice was not critical, but more confused as to the Major's miscalculation - a very rare occurrence in itself.

Prepared for this very question Carter replied immediately, "I didn't think it was possible, sir. For life to have adapted to such extreme temperatures - even if they lived beneath ground - is beyond my imagination, but the way Phantom stood out in the storm like that is something else entirely." She paused in thought, not completely sure she was right in this next assumption and thus reluctant to voice it. She shook her head slightly, the short blonde hair waving into her sight for a moment before disappearing again and she forged forward with the idea, deciding it was best to theorize than to not. "You see, sir, I'm not entirely sure he's alive." She waited to see the reactions.

This gave no one at the table pause - such news was hardly unheard of when discussing the adventures of off-planet exploration.

The General pressed forward, "You said he stood out in the blizzard." The Major nodded in confirmation, "Well if he's not alive then what is he? Some sort of projection?" Hammond hypothesized.

Carter shook her head, "No. At least I don't think so; he's solid, he learns, and the Gate would have closed off whatever signal would have been sustaining a projection like that."

"Then what?"

"Well, I think it's much more likely that he's an android of some sort."

Jack interrupted here, "Wait, wait, wait," he emphasized by pressing imaginary brakes with his hands, "You mean _android_ android? Like, 'Cumtraya!' android?" The Colonel clapped his hands together and waved them in a circle before letting them drop, the reference to their experience on P3X-989 not escaping SG-1's memories. The experience was hardly forgettable, even after all their years in the Stargate program it wasn't easy to forget having your mind cloned and put into an android shell. SG-1 came out no worse for wear after it, but their cybernetic counterparts were forced to stay on the planet or else their batteries would drain out, leaving them practically dead.

Carter nodded, "Essentially, yes. Though if Teal'c's timeline is right he probably wasn't made by Harlan or any Altarians. It's likely another, possibly more advanced culture created Phantom, but being an android would allow for his exceptional strength, his long life span, and, possibly, for the energy readings we picked up - assuming his power core is strong enough, it accounts for pretty much everything."

"If he's an android, how did he heal my hand?" Jackson mumbled while flexing the appendage in question. Now in the safety of the SGC, the occurrence felt like it happened ages ago, though he could still feel a faint tingling in his fingertips like he had held an ice cube too long and had lost sensitivity.

"You see, that's where I'm not sure," Carter replied pensively, "Even as an android I don't know how he could do that or even construct the energy fields. The amount of power it would take to hold that storm out... just the wind was three times more powerful than the bomb dropped on Hiroshima- this isn't counting the force of the snow it was carrying or the energy it would take to keep the temperature stable inside the dome." Carter frowned in thought. "If he is an android he's either got to have an extremely powerful energy source or he's incredibly well self-sustained." Samantha's eyebrows furled, unsure of all of this. Other than the android theory, she had nothing else to go on. Something just wasn't adding up.

"Now hold on just a minute here," the General asserted, his southern accent becoming more prominent in his frustration. "What are you talking about 'exceptional strength,' 'long life span,' healing your hand, what on _Earth _ is going on?" Hammond searched his team's faces, waiting for their complete tale about what had happened on PD8-010 - evidentially quite a bit more than what Jack had shared.

Now Jackson took his turn in explaining the adventure on "Artica," as Jack had since dubbed it. Daniel described in detail how the DHD had been frozen into uselessness and how his hand had done the same in his desperation to unbind the keys. Phantom, the Egyptologist explained, had saved their lives and helped them get back to Earth in one - completely thawed - piece and in repayment, and hopefully to the benefit of the SGC, they brought the boy back to Earth with them.

The General had many more questions, "And how would he be able to help us?" he asked, though not maliciously. "Why bring him here and not leave him on PD8? You said yourselves he could survive the storm."

"Well, for a couple of reasons," Jackson started slowly. "We invited him mainly because Teal'c mentioned he was an enemy of the Goa'uld - apparently he's even older than the system lords. I've read about him in inscriptions on other planets once under rule of the Goa'uld, all of which heralding him as their savior."

Hammond accepted this information in stride, readily able to accept whatever Jackson threw at him, but he was not about to forget, "And the other reason you brought him?" The General grew concerned at the glances the bespectacled man was passing to his friends.

"As I said, Phantom saved us with his dome. He also made it very clear he could undo that decision..." he answered hesitantly, obviously worried about the General's reaction.

"So you've let a dangerous alien android onto Earth," the General calculated as he steepled his fingers.

"Wouldn't be the first time," Jack quipped.

Without sparing a glance toward the Colonel, Jackson followed up Hammond's statement, "Well in his defense he only did it to get the weapons pointed away from him. Can't say as I'd be too happy if the roles were reversed," he amended. "We were just concerned at how he might react if we told him he couldn't come with, but beside that we _asked_ him to come - don't you see what this could mean for us? Another ally against the Goa'uld!"

"Yes, Doctor Jackson, I'm understanding the implications here, but what about the repercussions? As much as I'd like to have another ally, I'd like to know how many risks and how many enemies I'd be making along the way. We can't charge into this blind, we need to know who and what Phantom is," the man reasoned. "Now it was mentioned you knew something about Phantom?" he indicated Teal'c with a wave of his hand who then nodded in return. "Well let's hear it."

Teal'c's brow quirked as he recalled everything he'd been told about the 'Sterling Wraith.' "I first heard the tale told by Bra'tac," he began, referring to his mentor and the First Prime of Apophis before him, "well before I succeeded him. For generations a story has been passed down among the slaves of the Goa'uld from the time of Apep of child of immense power appearing before the Overlord and challenging his rule. The boy came to the Overlord during a wartime celebration, stopping all revelry and commanding attention with his presence alone.

"The gathered were in awe the boy's energy, but refused to believe anything could overpower their god. To demonstrate, the child gave a command to an unseen force, slaughtering half of Apep's Goa'uld faster than they could scream. Soaked in the blood of their brethren, they listened to their ultimatum: To stop expanding the Empire or to face death.

"Centuries after that there were echoes of stories of the Wraith coming to relieve a people from their System Lord captors. As First Prime I often hoped for the day that such a time would come to Chulak, but at the same time also for the opposite... Wherever the Wraith appeared, Death and Destruction were sure to follow as his faithful partners."

Hammond paused to absorb the information then continued, "First we need to asses Phantom so we know what we're dealing with. Until we can figure out what's at risk here, I'm ordering him to be put in confinement on level twenty-one." Seeing no objections from his squad he nodded briskly. "Dismissed."

As they gathered themselves to leave Hammond called Jack over, "A word, Colonel." The brown haired man obliged, his team headed off down the stairs. "Jack, I hope you know what you've gotten into because I sure as hell doesn't/" The stout man said with a certain lack of conviction. For as much trust as the General had in the once-retired military man, he honestly was very concerned with SG-1's ability to bring the galaxy's most dangerous men into Earth's hands - like Teal'c for example. But this time, unlike the rebel Jaffa, O'Neill didn't seem so sure about bringing it to Earth not about its allegiance and that left Hammond with a pit of worry in his stomach.

"Frankly, General, neither do I." Jack replied grimly, "but there wasn't another option." He refused to meet the General's eyes after that. He couldn't because he knew it was a lie - they both knew it was a lie. By default there was always a second option, always one final resort, the same one SG-1 had faced on several occasions. Neither man made to correct the statement, Jack simply carried on, "But I do trust in my team's judgment and they seem to trust him. If they want to give him a chance, I'm all for it."

The General searched the man's face, seeing his eyes resolute, the superior conceded. The bond between SG-1 had grown so tight in the years they'd worked together that he'd started to see them as one entity; their trust in each other never wavering, sometimes to a fault. Hammond trusted Jack with his life, but he was no fool either. SG-1's judgment might have been impaired after their near-death on the icy planet and this was something he couldn't simply ignore. He would seek out independent advice as to the wisdom of keeping Phantom on Earth. Perhaps it would be better to initiate negotiation with the presumed android on an off-world base.

With a nod, Hammond dismissed the Colonel, "Keep an eye on him," he ordered.

O'Neill complied with a two-fingered salute as he followed in the footsteps of his comrades.

* * *

As it turned out, Jack's request to the guard at the gateroom was unnecessary. After they had left Phantom he had been escorted to a secure dorm on level twenty-one where Dr. Frazier had to conduct her research her medical overview. Due to the unknown nature of Phantom she was under orders to keep the boy inside this room unless absolutely necessary. Though she didn't think that the scrawny child really needed a double-guarded and deadlocked door, she spoke nothing of it when confronting Danny. What he really needed, the physician decided, was a couple healthy meals. He was pathetically undernourished, that much she could tell without doing a physical evaluation.

Upon first meeting Phantom she was struck with the thought that he might be Goa'uld - his glowing eyes certainly didn't go unnoticed, but she calmed to a certain extent seeing them burn a brilliant green instead of the eerie gold that came with such a possession. She couldn't be entirely sure that it wasn't something of that nature, but she was confident enough that she didn't feel the need to be completely on guard. Even so, a soldier escorted her into Danny's assigned room and kept a watchful eye on the procedures and though she didn't like having an audience, she made no move to ask him to leave.

"Hello," Fraiser started with a comforting smile, greeting the startling alien before her. "I'm Doctor Fraiser. Would you mind if I gave you a quick exam?"

Danny blinked at her slowly as if he'd just been woken up, though she knew his eyes had been open when she stepped in. His vision came into focus on reality and took in the sight of the slight doctor. Janet knew she didn't make for a very imposing figure what with being only a little over five feet, but she was hoping she really didn't need to be. Phantom hardly looked capable of much danger, but even if he was she want't about to offer him reason to act on it.

He laid on the bed that sat slightly off-center of the room. The quarters themselves were rather comfortable: a plush bed, sturdy oak dresser, nightstand and lamp, several decorative pictures of Chyanne Mountain and surrounding countryside, and a scarcely adorned bookshelf. It was by no means a cell or prison, but it was secure and observable. This was a recovery room for the mentally afflicted, those who needed a little enforced down-time after a mentally traumatic injury or event and thus the room was bare of any electronics save the unobtrusive camera in the corner and the lamp.

Phantom had made himself comfortable - his cloak resting at the foot of the bed, his arms crossed behind his head and sitting propped up against the headboard. At hearing the doctor's voice he sat upright and faced her.

The boy frowned in response to her question. "It doesn't have math, does it?"

"What?" she asked bewildered.

"The exam," he filled in, "it's not a math test is it? Cuz I failed algebra."

The doctor blanked before the gears finally ground into place. She laughed good naturedly, eliciting a grin from Phantom who was apparently pleased with his joke. "No, I just want to check you over and make sure you aren't hurt or sick."

The green eyes flickered. "I'm not," he replied with complete certainty.

"You may not feel it now, but we need to know for sure and we need to know if it's contagious."

Phantom shook his head. "Well I'm not sick and if I was you couldn't catch it anyway."

Janet decided not to fight the boy's logic and instead work around it. She wouldn't attempt to argue the fact that disease can and has effected different species before - assuming that that was what he was implying. "Could I check anyway? It would make us all feel a bit safer."

Emerald orbs scrutinized her face, his expression bordering on worry. He huffed a breath and shrugged. "Sure, 'spose so."

Fraiser nodded and set her clipboard and medical ouch down beside Phantom's cape. She unzipped the black satchel and dug around, pulling out a pair of latex gloves, a few swabs, a needle, a vial, and a face mask. As she sorted out her materials, she stole a glance at the alien to see how he reacted to the show of metal, seeing his concern she decided to strike conversation. "So, you name is Danny Phantom." The boy nodded as she made to put on the gloves. "You can call me Janet if you'd like. What should I call you?" She looked up, meeting his eyes.

"People usually call me Phantom," he replied noncommittally. "No one's called me Danny in ages."

"Do you prefer Phantom?"

"Well," he shrugged, "not really. I don't really care, it's just my name."

The brunette smiled, "Alright then, Danny, what brings you to Earth?" She slipped on the face mask and fitted the tubing into one of the vials and the needle. Danny was quiet, watching her work until she looked at him expectantly.

"It's... it reminds me of home," he finally settled.

Janet hummed, "I hope you don't mean the base. It's not exactly the picture of hospitality."

The teen snorted, "No, I mean the planet."

"So you've been here before, then?"

"Huh?"

"Well you haven't left the base yet," she looked at him curiously, her lips curling into a confused frown though he couldn't see it beneath the mask. "You must have been here before if it reminds you of home, right?"

Even as she asked the question she knew something was off, some information she was missing. The doctor knew that the gate had been buried in Egypt before being brought directly to America and put under military watch. Perhaps Phantom had come though back when they were first discovering what the gate was, before Earth found out how to travel between worlds. But even if that were true that could mean Phantom was over sixty years old.

Before coming to inspect their other-worldly visitor, Janet got a call from the General who'd just finished his briefing with SG-1 saying that it was possible for Phantom to be an android of all things. Not much more information was offered, only an order to give Phantom a medical run-down, which she had already assumed. Though being an android was a possibility, the doctor found herself doubting it. If he were some sort of mechanical being, she wouldn't think he would be so cautious of the needle. Janet had watched as Jack's clone-version android had taken a scalpel to his wrist, pressing the cutting implement so hard against his skin that it would have sliced straight into the artery in his arm had he been human, and then pull the skin away to reveal the machinery within, all without so much as a grunt of pain. There was always the possibility that Phantom was programmed to feel pain, but what good would it do to have a machine that could be hurt?

"You could say that." Danny's voice broke her out of her thoughts, bringing her back into the present.

Doctor Fraiser held out her hand, gesturing towards Phantom's arm. "I need to draw some blood." Uncertainty still shone on the teen's face. "It'll only be a pinch, I promise," she nodded reassuringly.

Phantom's eyes suddenly lit up mirthfully. "It's not the pain I'm worried about." His lips quirked into a position somewhere between a laugh and a grimace, but he scooted to the edge of the bed and offered his right arm.

"Then what are you worried about?" Janet had no idea what, other that a fear of needles or the pain of the insertion, he could be afraid of.

"Well..." he began as if there was some joke she was missing, "I guess you'll see soon enough."

He watched as she searched his arm for a vein, saying nothing further. Looking into the midjoint of his arm, she looked for the main artery there, prodding the area with her fingers when nothing showed up immediately. Oddly she wasn't able to locate the vein, but assumed that it was simply sitting too deep in the arm. Instead she moved farther down toward his wrist. The sample she needed was small, so a butterfly needle was all she needed, so a smaller vein would suffice, but even here should could find no signs of the vessels. Her eyebrows scrunched together in a mixture of confusion and concentration. She flipped his hand over to try again on the top of his palm, but again she couldn't find one, instead she found only tendon and bone, no vessels. Confused, she flipped the arm back to it's original position, double-checking herself.

She tried again on the other arm. Same results.

Looking back at Phantom, she saw his mouth pressed into a flat line, all traces of humor gone. Slowly he grabbed her gloved hand and pressed it against his throat. Janet pushed her fingers firmly against his jugular, waiting, waiting for a pulse. There was nothing.

Without thinking, she yanked her hand back and held it to her chest as if she'd been burned. His skin was so incredibly cold. Even the androids she'd inspected from SG-1 were warm to the touch, though they also had no heart beat. Those mechanical clones were so realistic that they'd had veins and capillaries and imperfections and were entirely convincing that they were human except the lack of heartbeat. Perhaps Phantom was an android as well, just not one made to be so life-like.

Letting go of the breath she wasn't aware she was holding, Janet shook her head and took inventory on her reaction and found it would be considered offensive. "I'm sorry-"

"No, it's alright. I get that a lot." His lips were still pressed together, but were now pulled up into an almost-smile.

Fraiser gathered herself, "are you an android?"

And the mirth was back, "An android? Like a robot?" Phantom seemed thrilled with the idea, his eyes alight with something more than their inherent glow. "That would be cool! Be like the Terminator or something." He pulled his face into an almost expressionless mask, though unable to completely keep the smile off his lips, "I'll be back."

The doctor was almost amused, but more than that she was confused. _The Terminator _wasn't that old of a movie, so how had Phantom seen it? He would have had to have been on Earth within the last who decades and if that were true then he would have had to get past whatever security system was set up around the gate - granted it wasn't so well guarded until a few years ago when it became active. Even so someone would have noticed the gate turning on - and even if they hadn't, how would Phantom have gone again?

Noticing the lack of laughter from his physician, Phantom sighted and folded his hands in his lap. "No, I'm not a robot."

"What are you?" There were so many question zipping around in her head, begging to be asked, but unable to find words. At least this inquiry would provide some sort of comfort upon it's answer. Hopefully.

Phantom stared down at his twitching fingers, hesitant to speak. Janet looked down at the thin boy, watching as he had some sort of internal struggle. and she couldn't help but feel her heart go out to him. She didn't know what exactly Phantom was, but she did know he was alone and uncertain of his surroundings.

Janet pulled off the mask, letting it dangle around her heck. She sat herself on the bed beside the boy, unperturbed even as the guard at the door shifted uncomfortably.

"Well," he began, "I'm not sure you'd believe me even if I told you." Out of some sort of nervous habit, Danny reached for the back of his neck, scraping his nails along there. As he did so, his elbow passed in front of the lamp.

If she hadn't been paying attention, she wouldn't have seen it, but she did. When his arm passed in front of the light, instead of casting a shadow like one would assume, the light passed straight though. No bone, no muscle or sinew, just a blurred distortion of the lamp, like looking through wax paper.

After all her time learning about and trying to explain the unknown, this phenomenon was mind-boggling. Not only did the boy apparently glow, but he was transparent!

Gently, she picked up Phantom's right hand and held it between her and the light source, transfixed with the translucence of the appendage. The boy sat still, allowing for her to marvel at his natural feat, his left arm sinking away from his neck. Janet watched the watery image of her fingers grasped around Phantom's icy cold wrist with astonishment.

Aware now that her mouth was hanging open, she focused back on what Phantom had said before she noticed his odd condition. Danny said he didn't think she'd believe him, but after so many years on this job, there was little she wasn't willing to believe. "Try me," she challenged, setting the boy's hand back in place.

Danny looked at her seriously, taking some unknown thought into deep consideration. He searched her face for a moment, mistrust sitting there like words in a book, and though she wished she could, she couldn't comfort him. Not unless she knew why he was so distrustful.

"What year is it?" he asked suddenly.

"2000. Why?"

Relief suddenly flooded his face, and Janet somehow felt as if some immeasurable weight had been lifted off her chest as well, but without the faintest idea why.

"Only 2000." The teen repeated breathlessly, running a hand through his messy hair with a sigh. "Only eight more years."

Curious as she was, the doctor remained quiet, letting Phantom work out his thoughts. As she'd hoped, Danny then grinned at her, about to speak, only to be interrupted by a rapping on the wooden door. The guard cracked the door open and stepped halfway out to converse with whoever sought entry.

The man stepped back in, "Major Carter, ma'am, requesting to speak with you," he supplied dutifully.

"Thank you. Tell her I'll be out in a minute." He did so, then resumed his post. "Well, Danny, looks like I have to get going. I'll be back in a couple of hours, alright?"

Danny blinked, "Oh. Did you still want to stab me?"

"Well, I don't know if I can, seeing how you don't have any veins."

He shrugged, "You don't need one. Just-" he motioned jabbing his finger into his elbow, "and it comes out. Promise," he said with a winning smile upon seeing the doctor's skepticism.

"You're sure?" she reinforced.

"Well yeah, it's my body after all. I think I'd know how it works."

Seeing this as a valid point, Janet did as Phantom directed, pausing with the needled above his skin after wiping the area with disinfectant. "You'll feel a pinch," was all she said before forcing the tip in blindly. Phantom squeezed his eyes closed and turned away as she did do, unable to watch himself be pricked. After a couple seconds he spoke up.

"Is it in?"

"Yes..." came her reply, an edge to her voice.

"Oh," Phantom piped, "I didn't even feel it!" His grin reached from ear to ear, pleased with he lack of pain.

But now, as the fluids drained into the thin tubing and dribbled into the vial, she was a bit surprised, though she supposed she shouldn't be. It wasn't the first time she'd seen oddly colored blood. The Goa'uld's was purple after all, but that she had thought was a result of the naquadah in their blood after so many years extending their lifespans with the sarcophagi. But never had she seen _green_ blood.

"Yeah..." Phantom began, watching his blood trickle out of him, "it's not really hemoglobin. More like 'hemogoblin.'"

A few seconds slower than it would normally would have taken a human, Danny's lifeforce filled the glass tube. Janet detached it and plugged on another. Taking the time it would take for it to fill, Frazier retrieved two cotton swabs from her kit. With one she took a sample from Phantom's mouth and the other from his skin. Both were then stuffed into vials of their own for preservation.

When the second vial was filled it was placed beside the first in a styrofoam box labeled with a biohazard sticker and then inside her black bag. She patched Danny up with a bandage when she removed the needle and unequipped herself of the mask and gloves.

"Thank you," she said. "I'll be back again in a bit."

"Sure," the teen smiled, "I'll be here."

As if he could be anywhere else, she thought as she stepped out of the room.

* * *

_Author's Note: I don't know when the next update will be, as I am moving and will be without internet for a month or so. I will be working on the next chapter in the mean time, and, I might add, it will be an especially good one. In my opinion at least. Look forward to backstory and plot development!_


End file.
